


the longest distance is time

by i_am_not



Series: malec minutiae [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Confessions, Feelings, Fluff, Kind of a crossover, M/M, Pining, Red String of Fate, Soulmates, between This World Inverted and Canon Universes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:33:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23546200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_not/pseuds/i_am_not
Summary: Perhaps the strings of two lives are tangled so tightly that there no longer remains a knowledge of irreparable separation. Perhaps that is their fate, and the longest distance is time.“Why do you keep running away?” Alec took a step closer, challenging him. “You don’t call . . .” his voice lowered, but it was all Magnus could hear despite the throbbing music, “you don’t answer my messages.” Alec leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Why?”
Relationships: Alternate Magnus Bane/Alternate Alec Lightwood (Shadowhunters: This World Inverted), Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: malec minutiae [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769293
Comments: 7
Kudos: 81
Collections: Magnus Bane x Alec Lightwood, Malec, Shadowhunters ▶ Magnus Bane / Alec Lightwood





	the longest distance is time

* * *

"Wait."

Alec Lightwood was right behind him.

Magnus had tried to run away, _as embarrassing as that sounds_. He had to. There was no other option. Alec couldn't see him like this, not when he lost control.

Magnus Bane knew it had been foolish to allow himself to become so inebriated. To have allowed himself to be charmed by this human in bringing him to a party so . . . _mundane_. As if he was one hundred years young again, without a shred of self-restraint. And after years and years of careful abstinence. _Pathetic_. All because there was this terrible . . . _want_.

Magnus reckoned Alec Lightwood was dangerous, dangerous in a way that made him feel weak, vulnerable. Made him want to open himself up again. In his dreams and waking moments, thoughts of Alec often came unbidden, as if they were trying to tell him something. Alec reminded him of someone much too familiar. Someone who had once made his heart and body ache with need. Magnus couldn't remember now. He didn’t know if it was something he wanted to remember.

Alec's nearness at present made him long for that which he had not felt in so many years. Something tender, honest. A softness.

Magnus blinked rapidly before turning to face him.

“Why do you keep running away?” Alec took a step closer, challenging him. “You don’t call . . .” his voice lowered, but it was all Magnus could hear despite the throbbing music, “you don’t answer my messages.” Alec leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Why?”

Long, ringed fingers, glittering under the strobing lights reached out to touch his messy dark hair that was usually _so_ put together.

“These are new,” Alec had observed, glancing at the silver, earlier in the evening, when Magnus had taken his hand, allowing himself to be pulled away to the VIP section. Magnus had just chuckled dismissively, “Trying something new, I suppose.” Alec had refrained from responding back.

Alec's current state of dishevelment reflected in his hazel eyes. His habitual, mirthfully bright eyes had darkened with something deeper. Magnus reached behind Alec’s ear. His gaze was soft, glinting in the lights of their surroundings, concealing the amber he had hid beneath a glamour.

Alec caught his wrist, and pulled Magnus’ hand down to his chest, holding it there, against Alec’s rapidly beating heart, “Just . . . tell me why.”

Magnus had thought that it would just be one final time, once and for all before he let himself move on from Alec. In no scenario would this . . . _thing_ , ever work. He’d thought that partaking a little bit of the _sweet, sweet_ liquor couldn’t possibly cause any harm. Now that the truth dangled so precariously on his tongue he wondered if it had been a grave miscalculation on his part. And Alec Lightwood was looking at him _like that_ , his beautiful eyes wide and filled with frankness—the intensity of which stole Magnus's breath away—searching his face, Magnus could still feel Alec’s heart under his hand—

“You know who I am,” he answered before he could stop himself. He gently wrestled his hand out of Alec’s relentless grip and grazed his knuckles over Alec’s jaw. “You’ve known me a long time. More than anyone in . . . hundreds of years,” he admitted. Magnus felt so old and so tired. Alec’s mouth parted, he was breathing unevenly through his lips. Magnus felt a strange clarity of mind. “You know more of who I am than either of us wants to admit.” Magnus clutched Alec’s arm. And as if they had done this for ages and ages, Alec slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer. Close enough for Magnus to feel Alec’s warm breath on his face.

“The truth of what I am, at its deepest core,” Magnus continued, the tip of his thumb brushing Alec’s lower lip. “The truth is that I’m _yours_." He felt himself falter. "Perhaps I was born to live through annihilation, to endure dust and hellfire, just to be here. At your side.” Magnus sighed, “That is why.”

Unwittingly, the amber of his eyes burned to the surface, slow and languid as he peered into Alec’s eyes.

Alec tightened his hold around Magnus, leaned in and brought their faces near enough so that they touched. “I remember,” he murmured. “Don’t you?"

Magnus felt his eyes widen with realisation as a zigzagging line began to appear on the left side of Alec’s neck, stretching the entire length of his long, pale neck—from below his ear to right above his shoulder. "Magnus, I—we brought you back from Edom.” A smaller line cut through its centre. It glowed amber and orange before settling into a dull black. “I remember everything.” Alec whispered, finally closing the distance between them and urgently pressing his lips to Magnus’s.

Perhaps the strings of two lives are tangled so tightly that there no longer remains a knowledge of irreparable separation. Perhaps that is their fate, and the longest distance is time.


End file.
